Showing posts with label 31 Days of Oscar. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 31 Days of Oscar. Show all posts

Saturday, February 15, 2014

'Stagecoach' Was About Images



"Well, there are some things a man just can't run away from."

The Ringo Kid (John Wayne)

(1939 is widely regarded as the greatest year ever for the motion picture. Ten movies were nominated for Best Picture that year, and today I take a look at the first of those 10 movies to hit the theaters.)
As in most genres, the movie western has many icons. John Wayne is certainly one of them.

In fact, the Duke is probably the first image that comes to mind for most people when they think of big–screen cowboys. And he made a lot of westerns in his life, many of them in the 1920s and 1930s.

But it is the one that made its debut 75 years ago, John Ford's "Stagecoach," that really launched his career.

Ford, too, had made many westerns, but "Stagecoach" was his first since the introduction of "talkies." I suppose he had made movies in just about every other genre, but, for some reason, he hadn't directed a western with sound. Maybe he regarded it as more of a risk to his reputation.

(That's kind of hard to rationalize, but, really, what other explanation could there be? After Ford made "Stagecoach," he went on to make classic westerns like "The Searchers," "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance," "Fort Apache," "My Darling Clementine" and "She Wore a Yellow Ribbon," among others.)

Wayne made his initial appearance in the movie when a stagecoach, eastbound from Arizona to New Mexico, picked him up after it came across him carrying his saddle after his horse had gone lame. Wayne's character, the Ringo Kid, was a fugitive from justice, and he wasn't so much picked up as he was taken into custody by a cavalry lieutenant who was on board.

Actually, it was sort of illogical that Ringo should be taken into custody on that particular stagecoach, which was occupied by a rather unsavory group — a prostitute (Claire Trevor), a banker (Berton Churchill) who was embezzling $50,000 from his bank, a whiskey salesman (Donald Meek), an alcoholic doctor (Thomas Mitchell) and a gambler (John Carradine). About the only respectable passenger was the pregnant wife of a cavalry officer (Louise Platt).

The rest of the movie was about the various hazards the stagecoach encountered on its journey. A subplot was the budding romance of Wayne's character and Trevor's character.

I've heard it said that an authentic country music song has at least one of a certain list of elements — drinkin' or guns or pickup trucks or prison or trains or Mom. The more the better, I suppose.

I guess it is that way with a western movie. I'm not a diehard fan of the western. But if that comparison is valid, then "Stagecoach" pushed all the right buttons.

It had horses and Indians and gunfights. There was a spine–chilling scene in which Wayne's character (played in the scene by stuntman Yakima Canutt) walked along the team of running horses to retrieve reins that had been dropped by Andy Devine when his character was shot, even a showdown on a town street in the Old West.

Speaking of which ...

I imagine that most moviegoers in 1939 weren't very well traveled. Air travel was still an emerging technology in those days, and the nation didn't have the extensive highway system it has today. My guess is that most Americans had no idea that there were places in this country that looked like the region in which "Stagecoach" was set.

Ford often used existing locations in his films. When moviegoers saw "Stagecoach," they saw the sprawling landscape of Monument Valley on the Utah–Arizona state line. Ford returned to the area several times, helping to make Monument Valley what most moviegoers imagine when they picture the Old West in their minds.

So Ford's movie entertained and educated at the same time. Escapism at its finest.

I watched this movie again for the umpteenth time two weeks ago when it aired on the opening day of Turner Classic Movies' annual salute to the Academy Awards, "31 Days of Oscar." It was shown, appropriately, on a Saturday afternoon, and I allowed my thoughts to wander to what it must have been like to be a boy in 1939, watching John Wayne in cowboy movies in a darkened theater.

By the time I came along, Wayne was the definition of what it was to be a cowboy. But that really began 75 years ago today.

"Stagecoach" is said to be one of the most significant movies ever made. It has been further said that Orson Welles watched it dozens of times prior to making "Citizen Kane."

Part of what made it so important was the performance of Mitchell, who had quite a year in 1939. Most movie scholars will speak of 1939 in reverent tones, and it was an exceptionally good year for movies. It was also a good year for Mitchell, who was a supporting actor in three of the movies that were nominated for Best Picture — "Stagecoach," "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington" and "Gone With the Wind."

Mitchell was nominated for Best Supporting Actor for his performance in "Stagecoach" — and won it, too — but he could just as easily have been nominated for either or both of the other two.

Strangely, though, 1939 seems to have been the peak of Mitchell's career; although he kept making movies until his death in 1962, he wasn't even nominated for his performance as Uncle Billy in the now–classic Christmas movie, "It's a Wonderful Life."

Saturday, February 12, 2011

A Year in a Day



If you've wondered why 1939 has the reputation for being the greatest year for movies ever, today would be a good day for you to settle in and watch Turner Classic Movies all day long.

It's a special day in TCM's annual "31 Days of Oscar." I can recall many themes that TCM has used over the years — times when programming was arranged according to films featuring a certain actor or actress or director or films that had certain plot similarities.

But I cannot recall a day when TCM did something like this.

From 7:15 (Central) this morning until the wee hours of Sunday morning, TCM will be showing all 10 of the movies that were nominated for Best Picture in 1939 starting with "Dark Victory" with Bette Davis and Humphrey Bogart.

That's followed at 9 a.m. by "Of Mice and Men" with Burgess Meredith. After that, it's "Ninotchka" with Greta Garbo at 11.

In the afternoon, "Wuthering Heights," with Laurence Olivier, will be shown at 1 p.m., followed by John Wayne in "Stagecoach" at 3 p.m. Jimmy Stewart stars in "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington" at 4:45.

That brings us to prime time.

The evening hours feature probably the two most remembered films of 1939 — "The Wizard of Oz," with Judy Garland, at 7 p.m., and the eventual Oscar winner, "Gone With the Wind," with Clark Gable and Vivien Leigh, at 9.

Robert Donat and Greer Garson star in "Goodbye, Mr. Chips" at 1 a.m., and the last of the 10 nominees, "Love Affair" with Irene Dunne and Charles Boyer, comes on at 3.

Talk about a heavyweight lineup. It's hard to think of a major star from 1939 who wasn't in one of the Best Picture nominees or a genre that wasn't represented.

Every February, I enjoy watching portions of TCM's salute. Part of my pleasure comes from seeing films I've seen before, but part of it comes from the experience of seeing films for the first time.

Typically, I look for a few movies to watch that I have never seen before, no matter how old they might be, and I am almost giddy at the thought of having all the top movies from the greatest year in film history available on one channel in a single day. It's kind of like one–stop shopping for classic movie fans.

Now, my mission is clear — but it is hardly easy.

I have seen some of the movies that are scheduled to be shown today, and I might watch one or two of them. But I haven't seen at least half of the Best Picture nominees of 1939, and I want to watch one or two of them as well.

Today I have a choice (or choices) to make.

And, if you are a fan of classic films, so have you.

Which film (or films) will you watch today?

Friday, February 11, 2011

A Box of Chocolates



I don't watch the Academy Awards much anymore.

I did when I was a teenager. In those days, I tended to see every movie that was nominated for Best Picture, Best Actor, Best Actress, Best Director, and I always had my personal choices for each one.

For many reasons, I haven't continued to do that as an adult.

But, in 1995, when "Forrest Gump" was nominated for 13 Oscars, I remember watching the broadcast.

At the time, I hadn't seen the film. In fact, I often felt like I was the only person in America who hadn't seen it by the time Oscar Night rolled around. But I liked Tom Hanks, who was cast in the title role, and I was familiar with the slogans that had rapidly become cliches — "life is like a box of chocolates," "stupid is as stupid does," etc.

Such phrases came to be known as "Gumpisms" — and, ever since that film was released in July 1994, I've heard them spoken or seen them written in all sorts of settings.

What is your favorite Gumpism? If you're not sure, may I recommend that you watch the film when Turner Classic Movies shows it tonight as part of its annual "31 Days of Oscar" celebration? You can see it at 9 p.m. (Central).

Anyway, on Oscar Night, I remember seeing one of the people who won an Academy Award for his contribution to the picture (at present, I forget who it was) and observed that everyone had his or her particular favorite line from the film — and he said his favorite line was "Sometimes, there aren't enough rocks."

As I said, I still hadn't seen the movie at the time, and I didn't know which scene he was talking about. Now, of course, I know that it was Forrest's observation about watching Jenny fling rock after rock at the long–abandoned home of her abusive father and then fall to the ground sobbing.

Once I had seen the movie, I had to agree that it was a great line. But, unlike "life is like a box of chocolates" or "stupid is as stupid does," it had to be understood in the context of the rest of the film, in the context of the characters' life experiences.

You had to see the movie to get it.

As a writer, I appreciated the great lines, especially the ones that made sense only within the context of the story. But, as a student of history, I think I was attracted from the start by the way the film wove important events into the narrative and inserted Gump, Zelig style, into archival film footage of famous people — presidents, other politicians, social and cultural icons — and events.

As a fan of the Beatles and John Lennon, for example, I liked the way Gump and Lennon were featured in a scene from the Dick Cavett Show.

Similarly, I liked the scene in which Elvis Presley, in his days before he hit it big as a performer, was presented as a boarder in Forrest's mother's home in Alabama. I don't know if Elvis, in his short career as a truck driver, ever hauled anything through Alabama and had to spend the night there, but I guess it's possible.

Elvis, after all, was born in Mississippi. He grew up there. And it is possible that, in the course of his work, he drove trucks through neighboring Southern states, like Alabama. If that happened, he may have needed to spend the night in Alabama on occasion.

So Forrest's suggestion that he taught Elvis to dance was plausible.

Those are the kinds of moments that I enjoy. They're sort of like "So that is how that came to be!" revelations — like when you first learned the natural laws that made the formations of clouds possible or when you discovered that a rainbow is an optical phenomenon.

Even though you knew, on a deeper level, that what was being presented in "Forrest Gump" wasn't the real story. It was fiction.

But that is what I always enjoyed about "Forrest Gump." I liked the one–liners, but I really liked the way legitimate history was told through Forrest's experiences.

In the alternate universe of that movie, Forrest was always connected, in one way or another, with the people and the events that shaped America and the world in the second half of the 20th century.

OK, it would have been over the top to have him land on the moon, whether on Apollo 11 or one of the missions that followed.

But it was logical to think that he might have been in the Watergate Hotel the night the burglars were arrested in the Democratic National Committee headquarters.

And that, I would say, is my favorite moment in "Forrest Gump."

But I also liked the way he, with Beverly Hillbillies logic, dealt with things. I loved the moment when Lt. Dan asked him if he had found Jesus.

Gump replied, "I didn't know I was supposed to be looking for him."

According to Gump, he was where history was made.

He played football for Bear Bryant, influenced musical icons Elvis Presley and John Lennon, met JFK and LBJ at the White House and played a role in the toppling of the Nixon presidency, among other things.

I've never read the book upon which it was based, but the movie was a great ride and I urge you to watch it again.

Or for the first time, if you've never seen it before.

Even if you've seen it before, there are things you probably missed.

Have a box of chocolates. It's nearly Valentine's Day.

Sunday, February 06, 2011

Pride of the Yankees



Today, of course, is Super Bowl Sunday.

It is always a special day for football fans, bittersweet in its way because it marks the absolute end of the football season.

After today, football fans will have to be content with offseason news for the next six or seven months — a prospect that is grimmer than usual, given the uncertain status of the NFL's collective bargaining agreement.

As a result, today's game could take on even more significance than usual if it turns out to be the NFL's last one for quite awhile.

I grew up in the South so it is hard for me to comprehend why anyone wouldn't like football. But I know that such people do exist. For some people, the only real pastime in America is baseball; for many of them, Super Bowl Sunday is merely another milestone along the road to the next baseball season.

If you are such a person, if you are counting the days until pitchers and catchers report, Turner Classic Movies has the alternative for you at 4:45 p.m. (Central) — 1942's "Pride of the Yankees" starring Gary Cooper in the title role.

No better choice could have been made to play the part. I don't really know if anyone else was even considered, but I can't think of anyone else who was active in the movies at that time who could have done a better job of re–creating Gehrig's now–legendary farewell speech.

In my opinion, it is easily the finest moment in baseball history, even though the movie played around with the actual sequence of the words (and, in some cases, the words themselves).

Here is what Gehrig actually said:
"Fans, for the past two weeks you have been reading about a bad break. Yet today I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth. I have been in ballparks for 17 years and have never received anything but kindness and encouragement from you fans.

"Look at these grand men. Which of you wouldn't consider it the highlight of his career just to associate with them for even one day? Sure, I'm lucky. Who wouldn't consider it an honor to have known Jacob Ruppert? Also, the builder of baseball's greatest empire, Ed Barrow? To have spent six years with that wonderful little fellow, Miller Huggins? Then to have spent the next nine years with that outstanding leader, that smart student of psychology, the best manager in baseball today, Joe McCarthy? Sure, I'm lucky.

"When the New York Giants, a team you would give your right arm to beat, and vice versa, sends you a gift — that's something. When everybody down to the groundskeepers and those boys in white coats remember you with trophies — that's something. When you have a wonderful mother–in–law who takes sides with you in squabbles with her own daughter — that's something. When you have a father and a mother who work all their lives so you can have an education and build your body — it's a blessing. When you have a wife who has been a tower of strength and shown more courage than you dreamed existed — that's the finest I know.

"So I close in saying that I might have been given a bad break, but I've got an awful lot to live for."

And here is what Cooper said in the movie:
"I have been walking onto ball fields for 16 years, and I've never received anything but kindness and encouragement from you fans. I have had the great honor to have played with these great veteran ballplayers on my left — Murderers' Row, our championship team of 1927. I have had the further honor of living with and playing with these men on my right — the Bronx Bombers, the Yankees of today.

"I have been given fame and undeserved praise by the boys up there behind the wire in the press box, my friends, the sports writers. I have worked under the two greatest managers of all time, Miller Huggins and Joe McCarthy.

"I have a mother and father who fought to give me health and a solid background in my youth. I have a wife, a companion for life, who has shown me more courage than I ever knew.

"People all say that I've had a bad break. But today ... today I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth."

It is, admittedly, something of a tearjerker, but it is also one of the most inspiring films ever made. It was nominated for 11 Oscars and won one of them. The American Film Institute ranked it 22nd on its "100 Years ,,, 100 Cheers" list of the most inspirational films of all time.

It was recognized as an inspirational film by TIME, which observed that the movie was somewhat light on its sports footage but long on a "grade–A love story."

TIME was so carried away with the love story, in fact, that most of its review centered on Cooper's young co–star, Teresa Wright, who was appearing in only her third movie.

"If moviegoers like her in it," wrote TIME, "she may become cinemadom's foremost dramatic actress. If they don't, she can 1) try again; 2) remain what she is: one of the best young dramatic actresses Hollywood has turned up in many a talent hunt."

Wright's filmography, which includes credits for such films as "Mrs. Miniver," "The Best Years of Our Lives" and "Shadow of a Doubt," indicates the quality of the productions in which she participated — and that says a lot about the quality of her performances.

But, looking at it from the perspective of some 69 years, "Pride of the Yankees" was the story of Lou Gehrig, a real man who died prematurely of a disease that still ends too many lives too soon. He played baseball better than most and was admired for it by millions.

As I said, I can't think of anyone who would have been a better choice to portray Gehrig than Gary Cooper. Neither, apparently, can radio personality Kevin Nelson, who said, in "The Greatest Stories Ever Told About Baseball," that "Gehrig was to baseball what Gary Cooper was to the movies: a figure of unimpeachable integrity, massive and incorruptible, a hero."

I recommend for your consideration the heroic tale of Lou Gehrig.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

TCM's Salute to Oscar Returns

It's an annual pleasure of mine, Turner Classic Movies' "31 Days of Oscar" salute.

And I know it's a pleasure for many of my readers — who probably don't need this reminder, but I'm going to mention it, anyway.

"31 Days of Oscar" returns on Tuesday.

I've been looking at the schedule, eagerly anticipating some of the movies that are planned — and I'll be writing about them in more detail in the weeks ahead.

For now, though, I'll just mention that the salute appears to be starting with an evening of films about the reign of Henry VIII.
  • At 7 p.m. (Central), you can see the great Charles Laughton in 1933's "The Private Life of Henry VIII,"

  • At 9 p.m., you can see 1966's "A Man For All Seasons" starring Paul Scofield — which was nominated for eight Oscars (and won six, including "Best Picture") — and

  • At 11:15 p.m., you can see Richard Burton in 1969's "Anne of the Thousand Days" — which was nominated for 10 Oscars.
If you happen to be home on Tuesday, there are lots of other good films scheduled — the original "Thin Man" will be shown that morning, followed by "Citizen Kane," followed by Charlie Chaplin in "The Great Dictator," followed by Sir Laurence Olivier in "Richard III."

But you could say that about each of the 31 days. There will always be something good showing. It's the very best time of the year to watch TCM — in my opinion, anyway.

I'll be back periodically to alert you to movies I wouldn't want you to miss, but, in the meantime ...

Enjoy.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Peter Sellers Strikes Again



During her lifetime, my mother thoroughly enjoyed the film performances of Peter Sellers.

I remember seeing Sellers' final movie — 1979's "Being There" — and another one of his last movies, the 1976 spoof of murder mysteries, "Murder By Death," with both of my parents at a movie theater. I don't know if Mom ever saw "Dr. Strangelove," which I saw for the first time on TV after I got out of college, and I'm not sure if Mom ever saw "I Love You, Alice B. Toklas," which I saw on TV with a couple of my buddies in college.

But I guess the Peter Sellers flicks that most make me think of Mom have always been the Pink Panther movies.

And Turner Classic Movies is showing one of my favorites tonight as TCM enters the homestretch of its annual "31 Days of Oscar" presentation.

By the time Sellers made "The Pink Panther Strikes Again," he had already made three films as Inspector Clouseau. The running gags had been established — the surprise attacks by his manservant Cato; his general incompetence and the chief inspector's manic attempts to do away with him; his maddening mispronunciations of simple English words, like "room." So this one was noteworthy for a story line that exaggerated all the gags.

I don't want to spoil it for you, but I will briefly mention some of the things about the movie that I always enjoy seeing:
  • Some of America's leading political figures in the mid–1970s were portrayed, quite well by actors who looked and sounded a great deal like the men they were supposed to be. If you're old enough to remember guys like Gerald Ford and Henry Kissinger, you're sure to get a few laughs from their Oval Office scenes.

  • The interrogation scene, a clip of which is attached at the top of this post, is, indeed, a classic, but I can picture my mother mimicking the line Sellers utters just before that scene after showing off on the parallel bars and tumbling down a flight of stairs into a room full of people — "That felt good!"

  • Clouseau's tortured English was always comedic fodder. And his bumbling ways, which infuriated the chief inspector and drove him to a murderous campaign in this movie, set the stage for some of Clouseau's most memorable moments, like the moment when he asks the German innkeeper, "Does your dog bite?" The innkeeper shakes his head and Clouseau reaches down to pet the dog on the floor. The dog immediately growls and snaps his teeth around Clouseau's fingers. He shakes the dog from his hand, glares at the innkeeper and says, "I thought you said your dog did not bite." The innkeeper calmly replies, "That is not my dog."

    It's kind of an old joke, but in Sellers' hands, it seems fresh and funny.


My brother has seen "The Pink Panther" remake starring Steve Martin, and he says it was good.

I have a great deal of respect for Martin's skills. I was pleasantly surprised by his performances in "Roxanne" and "Leap of Faith" so it was not a shock that he was able to portray a cartoonish character like Clouseau.

Perhaps one of these days, I'll bring myself to watch Martin's version of Inspector Clouseau, but, right now, I can't.

However, if you haven't seen the original, you should.

TCM isn't showing that one tonight, although it seems to be shown somewhat frequently.

You can see "The Pink Panther Strikes Again" tonight at 1:45 a.m. (Central). If you haven't seen it before, record it and watch it later.

But even if you've seen it before, you ought to see it again. It's that good.

Saturday, February 27, 2010

Titanic's Maiden Voyage on TCM



Every year, it seems, Turner Classic Movies shows a movie during its annual "31 Days of Oscar" that it has never shown before.

For example, I recall that, two or three years ago, one of the films that was shown was Oliver Stone's "Nixon," which qualified for inclusion because it was nominated for four Oscars, although it didn't win one. It was the premiere of "Nixon" on TCM, as I recall.

I'm sure there have been others in recent years. Offhand, they just don't come to mind.

Anyway, tonight it is "Titanic"'s turn. The 1997 film that matched "Ben–Hur" for the most Oscars won (11 — a record that was duplicated a few years later by "The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King") will make its TCM debut at 9:15 p.m. (Central) tonight.

I've heard the disparaging talk about "Titanic" — reports of how the love story and the onscreen presence of Leonardo DiCaprio drew teenage girls for multiple viewings (thus inflating the film's box office haul, which shattered existing records) always seemed to be at the heart of most of the criticism. Well, Celine Dion's hit song that served as the movie's theme took its share of criticism as well.

I saw "Titanic" twice at the theater (and DiCaprio had nothing to do with it). I must admit that I was impressed with the historical details, the costumes, the furnishings. Everything I read about Titanic, both before and after I saw the film, told me that director James Cameron and his crew had done their homework. It was a faithful, authentic re–creation.

Granted, Jack and Rose were fictional, but their love affair served the purpose of making audiences care about a story that, by the time the film was released in December 1997, was more than 80 years old. Jack and Rose gave the story a personal, intimate touch that made it live in the minds of those who saw it. By the time the ship struck the iceberg midway through the movie, audiences were hoping there was some way they could be among the survivors — but the fact that one of them had to die drove home the extent of the tragedy for a world that had no memory of that time.

As for Dion's song, well, I never really cared for it, but I've never been a Celine Dion fan, anyway. Something had to be the theme song, and if that 4½–minute song is what prevents you from seeing the brilliance of a 3¼–hour movie, I feel sorry for you. I can only conclude that you don't appreciate the things that made "Titanic" the movie experience it was.

Some people get all worked up about Kate Winslet having been nominated for Best Actress and Gloria Stuart (who will be 100 years old on the Fourth of July) for Best Supporting Actress when DiCaprio wasn't nominated for Best Actor.

But that is a red herring, as far as I am concerned. The acting wasn't what was recognized on Oscar Night that year. Along with receiving Best Picture, the film was recognized for all the parts that made up the complete package — costumes, cinematography, sound and visual effects, art direction, editing, directing, sound, dramatic score. Much of what was done could not have been done even 5 or 10 years earlier.

The writing wasn't nominated, but it really wasn't bad, that "king of the world" line notwithstanding.

And, given the fact that the sinking of the Titanic has been said to have been the last gasp of a truly social caste system in the nations of the West, there was ironic foreshadowing of the issues that would plague the period to follow when Stuart said, reflecting on the day her character boarded Titanic, "It was the ship of dreams to everyone else. To me, it was a slave ship taking me back to America in chains." Not long after the ship sank, American women were given the right to vote, and much of the story of the 20th century was about their steady gains in influence — gains that Rose's character could only imagine but the older edition, played by Stuart, had an array of photographs that told the viewer she had played her role and, schmaltzy as it may seem, proved that she had been true to her promise to Jack to "go on" and live a full, rich life.

And, OK, some of the writing was somewhat obvious, like when Elderly Rose solemnly says, "A woman's heart is a deep ocean of secrets." On both of the occasions when I saw this movie in the theater, this line evoked loud, knowing sighs from the women in the audience. The line struck me as being somewhat predictable. Really? An "ocean of secrets" in a film about the Titanic?

Well, the writing wasn't nominated for an Oscar — and maybe that was appropriate. By and large, it really only served the purpose of providing a framework for the rest of the production. Once the ship started to sink, there were quite a few mini–dramas that could have been achieved — and, in fact, were achieved — using only statements that were recalled in the testimony of the survivors — like the moment when the ship's bandleader tells his fellow musicians, "Gentlemen, it has been a privilege playing with you tonight" as they play the music of the era while the ship continues to sink beneath the waves.

Actually, that may have been the perpetuation of a legend, as apparently was the band's rendition of "Nearer My God To Thee." Over the years, a myth has developed that says that was the final song played, but, based on my research, no one really knew what the band's final selection was. I guess there was too much confusion for anyone to notice — and most of the people who survived the sinking may have been a fair distance from the ship in lifeboats that had already been launched.

Well, there has to be a certain amount of leeway given in telling the story of a disaster as profound as the sinking of the Titanic in the North Atlantic in April 1912.

And I urge you to watch — and appreciate — Cameron's achievement.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

A Treasure of a Film



I guess it's sort of ironic that the most recognizable line from "The Treasure of the Sierra Madre" is uttered by a minor character, a Mexican bandit known only as Gold Hat.

"Badges? We ain't got no badges! We don't need no badges! I don't have to show you any stinking badges!" Gold Hat exclaims when Humphrey Bogart's character asks to see badges after Gold Hat says he and his men are mounted police. The American Film Institute rates that line as the 36th most recognizable line in a movie in the last 100 years.

I guess there is a certain allegorical quality in Gold Hat's name, considering that "The Treasure of the Sierra Madre" was probably the finest film about greed until "Wall Street" came along about 40 years later.

And gold was obviously at the heart of things in "The Treasure of the Sierra Madre." It is what brings Bogart, Tim Holt and Walter Huston together. It is the thing for which they sweat and struggle and sacrifice for months. And it is lost at the end of the movie when bandits mistake the gold for ordinary sand and scatter it to the winds.

In addition to telling a great story, the movie also made motion picture history. John Huston won an Oscar for Best Director. His father, Walter, won an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor. It was the first father–son win in Oscar history.

Nearly 40 years later, John's daughter Anjelica became the third–generation Academy Award winner in the Huston family when she won an Oscar as Best Actress for her performance in "Prizzi's Honor." (Ironically, that was one of John's last directorial efforts.)

But it seems to me that the line is almost symbolic of the hubris that often accompanies greed. Although Gold Hat and his men can be seen as frightful stereotypes in the 21st century, they are essential to the telling of the story.

And it's a story that seems to be at least as old as the oldest tales in the Bible. It's the story of greed, and it's the story of lust (in this case, the lust for treasure) and it's the story of values.

Turner Classic Movies showed it this afternoon as part of its "31 Days of Oscar" salute. I would have mentioned it here earlier, but TCM shows it fairly frequently. If you missed it, I'm sure you'll get another chance.

Seize it.

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Holden's Best



I was chatting with an old friend on Facebook yesterday, and she had to log off to prepare dinner. I mentioned to her that Turner Classic Movies would be showing the classic film, "Sunset Boulevard," in just a few minutes.

"Wow!" she replied. "William Holden at his best."

Maybe she was right.

"Sunset Boulevard" was clearly a turning point in his career. Until that movie, most of Holden's film roles were light, even frivolous. But legendary director Billy Wilder cast him as the screenwriter who becomes Gloria Swanson's kept man. And things were different for him from that point on.

I guess it is a matter of opinion whether one thinks "Sunset Boulevard" really was Holden at his best. It certainly is one of his best films. But I have to give Turner Classic Movies credit for showing several of his best films during TCM's annual "31 Days of Oscar" salute to Oscar–nominated films.

This month, TCM has shown "Stalag 17," "Network," "The Bridge on the River Kwai," "Executive Suite" and "Sunset Boulevard." I think that's all of Holden's movies that are planned during this year's salute — and I guess I could quibble and insist that TCM also should have shown "Sabrina," "The Country Girl," "The Wild Bunch," possibly others.

But I imagine it can be a daunting task to plan what will be shown during the "31 Days of Oscar" — not to mention the fact that there are all sorts of legal hoops through which broadcasters must jump. So even if you think a film should be included, who knows what kinds of issues may prevent it from being shown?

When you think of all the other great films and all the other great stars who absolutely, positively must be included in the "31 Days of Oscar," be grateful you got five Holden films in the deal.

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Dysfunction Junction



I saw a movie this morning that I have seldom seen over the years — 1966's "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?"

Perhaps you aren't familiar with it. It has been nearly 45 years since it was showing in America's movie theaters. But you've certainly heard of its two stars — Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, both of whom were nominated for Oscars (Taylor won). And you may be familiar with their two co–stars — George Segal and Sandy Dennis, both of whom were nominated for Oscars (Dennis won).

In the public eye, Taylor was a svelte beauty, but she put on 30 pounds, radically altering her image, in order to play the frumpy Martha in the film version of Edward Albee's play. Burton, Taylor's husband at the time, also had an image as something of a sex symbol, thanks to his good looks, but he apparently also made some physical adjustments to meet the requirements of playing George the professor.

Actually, director Mike Nichols' original choices to play George and Martha were James Mason and Bette Davis, according to Edward Sikov's book about Davis. I've heard that he shared this information with the playwright, and Albee approved of the choices, particularly since the character of Martha refers to Davis and quotes her famous line from "Beyond the Forest" ("What a dump!") early in the film. In the end, though, Taylor and Burton got the roles as the dysfunctional couple.

At the heart of their dysfunction is the fact that they have never had children, a fact that is only hinted at through much of the film although, in hindsight, all the clues were there. But their guests — along with the audience — don't figure it out until near the end, after George and Martha have played their sadistic games designed to hurt everyone in sight.

Their most pointed barbs are aimed at each other, although their guests are hardly spared.

Suffice to say, it isn't a "feel good" flick. There's a lot of shouting and a lot of profanity — and not many terms of endearment. But it is an important film.

Taylor and Segal may never have made a film as good since. Certainly the now deceased Burton and Dennis didn't. And I would argue that Nichols, who was a first–time director when he made it, went on to direct only a few films that were as good or better, among them his next effort — "The Graduate."

For my money, it is one of the most important films of the second half of the 20th century. If you didn't see it this morning, when it aired on Turner Classic Movies' "31 Days of Oscar," I urge you to watch it when you can.

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

'Odd Couple' Still Funny After All These Years



You know a comedy was good when there are lines in it that you can tell your friends and family over and over again — and they're always funny, no matter how many times you tell them.

Seems to me that just about every movie that was based on a Neil Simon play was like that. But I think it was especially true of "The Odd Couple," which was turned into a movie starring Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon in 1968.

Matthau played Oscar, a sloppy sportswriter, and Lemmon was Felix, a compulsive neat freak who worked as a news writer. The play/film never established whether they worked for the same news organization, but they lived in New York, which then, as now, had several newspapers.

Anyway, their employer(s) didn't figure as an important part of the story. And the lines are still as good, still as funny as they were in 1968.

My grandmother was probably the best evidence of that. She wasn't the sort of person to recite humorous dialogue from movies, but there was one scene from "The Odd Couple" that always made her laugh. And she loved to tell it.

Oscar asks Felix to move his plate of pasta from the dining table. He calls it "spaghetti." Felix laughs.

Oscar asks him, "What the hell's so funny?"

Chuckling, Felix replies, "It's not spaghetti, it's linguini."

Without saying a word, Oscar picks up the plate of linguini and flings it at the kitchen wall.

He turns around and glares at Felix. "Now it's garbage," he says slowly, softly and deliberately.

I can't tell you how many times my grandmother told us about that scene — or how hard she laughed at the memory of it, years after she first saw it.

The story was really deceptively simple. Felix has been thrown out of the house and considers ending his life, but he winds up at the home of Oscar, his best friend, who gives him a place to stay. Seems like a good solution, right? Wrong. The two personalities are so different that they can't co–exist.

What ensues is some of the best dialogue ever written by Neil Simon. And it was delivered flawlessly by Lemmon and Matthau.

If you've never seen it, I won't spoil it for you by telling you some of the best lines. I'll just urge you to watch it.

You can see it tonight on Turner Classic Movies' "31 Days of Oscar."

It's on at 10:15 p.m. (Central).

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Bergman: A Special Talent, a Special Treat



If I have a complaint about Turner Classic Movies' "31 Days of Oscar" this year, it would be that many of the very best movies in the lineup are being shown at times that are hardly convenient.

I have already written about some of these movies, but they came on at times that were much more convenient than the time slot that was given to 1974's "Murder on the Orient Express."

It was shown at 3 a.m. (Central) this morning. Unless you work nights — or live in Hawaii — you probably weren't awake when it was on.

I hope you set your VCR or your DVR to record it. It is worth seeing.

I've heard it called the best film version of an Agatha Christie novel that has ever been made. I haven't seen every movie that was based on her novels, but my parents were big fans of hers and, as a result, I have read many of her books.

And I can say that "Murder on the Orient Express" truly was a remarkable film. The story was inspired by the kidnapping and murder of Charles Lindbergh's son in 1932, an event that undoubtedly was remembered by many of the people who saw the movie when it came out.

Today, of course, the Lindbergh case is nearly 80 years old, and there are few living people who still remember it. But things were different 36 years ago.

As I say, my parents were huge Agatha Christie fans, and I remember seeing the movie with them. After I saw it, I read Christie's original novel upon which the story was based. And I marveled again at what I had seen.

The film was nominated for half a dozen Academy Awards, but it won only one — Best Supporting Actress. That was kind of a surprise, considering that the winner, Ingrid Bergman, had been considered for a larger role by director Sidney Lumet but insisted on a smaller role.

"I couldn't persuade her to change her mind," Lumet said. "She was sweetly stubborn. But stubborn she was. ... Since her part was so small, I decided to film her one big scene, where she talks for almost five minutes, straight, all in one long take. A lot of actresses would have hesitated over that. She loved the idea and made the most of it. She ran the gamut of emotions. I've never seen anything like it."

Bergman was a class act. She always seemed so humble about her talent, even when she received her Oscar for "Murder on the Orient Express." She said nothing about her performance or the people with whom she worked. Instead, she apologized to fellow actress Valentina Cortese for beating her.

"It's always very nice to get an Oscar," she said to scattered laughter, "but in the past he has shown that he is very forgetful and also has the wrong timing because last year, when 'Day for Night' won for the Best Picture, I couldn't believe it that Valentina Cortese was not nominated because she gave the most beautiful performance. ... It's so ironic that this year she is nominated when the picture won last year. I don't quite understand that, but here I am and I'm her rival. And I don't like it at all. Please forgive me, Valentina! I didn't mean to."

And she left the stage without saying anything about Lumet or Albert Finney (who did a great job of playing detective Hercule Poirot but was beaten by Art Carney for Best Actor) or any of the other talented people in the cast — or the cinematographer, the costume designer, the composer or the writer who adapted the screenplay, all of whom were nominated for Oscars as well.

Increasingly in recent years, actresses are expected to be young and beautiful. Only select actresses continue to receive great acting roles as they get older.

Bergman was quite beautiful when she was young, and she was always talented. You can see ample evidence of that tonight. Turner Classic Movies will show her in "Casablanca" at 7 p.m. (Central), when she was still in her 20s.

But if you have never seen "Murder on the Orient Express," which she made in her late 50s, rent it and watch it.

And marvel at Bergman's talent.

Tuesday, February 09, 2010

A Satire With Staying Power



It's hard to believe it's been more than 30 years since "Network" was showing on America's theater screens. It seems even more relevant today than it did when it was first released.

And you can see it tonight on Turner Classic Movies' "31 Days of Oscar" at 11:15 p.m. (Central).

I wish it wasn't on so late because I know that makes it more difficult for some people to see it. But if you can see it — or, at the very least, record it to watch later — I encourage you to do so because I think it's one of the best movies ever made.

And I'm not alone in that. The American Film Institute included it in its list of the Top 100 films of the last 100 years. Twice. AFI ranked it 66th when the original list was released in 1998, then moved it up two slots for the revised list that was released in 2007.

The Paddy Chayefsky story is about an anchorman who is being given the boot by his network and announces on the air that he will kill himself on his final broadcast. And then the network's ratings shoot through the roof. The anchorman, Howard Beale (played by eventual Best Actor winner Peter Finch), doesn't follow through on his threat, telling his viewers that he "just ran out of" bullsh*t, but he delivers a memorable rant later in which he encourages his listeners to go to their windows, stick their heads out and yell, "I'm as mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore!"

Diana the programming executive (played by Best Actress winner Faye Dunaway) speaks by phone to executives at network affiliates to find out if people are following Beale's advice. When she receives confirmation that they are, ratings numbers dance in her head and she exclaims, "Son of a bitch! We struck the Mother Lode!"

There are many memorable moments in "Network," really. Like when Beale tells viewers, "Television is not the truth. Television is a goddamned amusement park."

Or when Max the network executive (played by William Holden), who is having an affair with Diana, says of her, "I'm not sure she's capable of any real feelings. She's television generation. She learned life from Bugs Bunny."

But the ending is one of the most memorable. Beale, who has been resurrected as the "Mad Prophet of the Airwaves," has gotten out of control and the decision is made to assassinate him.

When the deed is done, the narrator tells the audience, "This was the story of Howard Beale: The first known instance of a man who was killed because of lousy ratings."

It may be helpful to remember that, when "Network" came out, cable TV was not even close to what it is today. For the most part, America was still watching the Big Three networks.

I think it has become more relevant in the years since it was first released.

Judge for yourself.

Saturday, February 06, 2010

A Super Alternative



If you aren't particularly interested in the Super Bowl, I have an alternative for you.

At 7 p.m. (Central) tomorrow, you can see what is arguably one of the most influential foreign films ever — Federico Fellini's comedy/drama "8½" — in Turner Classic Movies' "31 Days of Oscar."

Perhaps the first question I am asked whenever the subject of this film comes up is, "What does the title mean?"

And the answer is, it is a reference to Fellini's previous work. Prior to this movie, he made six feature–length movies and two short films, and he combined efforts with another director on another feature.

I haven't seen all of Fellini's films, but I know that "8½" is regarded as one of his best. It frequently pops up on lists of the best films of all time.

In "8½," Fellini tells the story of a director (Marcello Mastroianni) struggling with "director's block." Mastroianni's dreams and flashbacks weave a surreal narrative with the reality of his life.

For those with more than a passing interest in foreign films, there are other familiar names in the cast besides Mastroianni — Claudia Cardinale, Anouk Aimée.

Actually, next Sunday might have been the more appropriate time to show this film. That happens to be the anniversary of its initial release in Italy in 1963.

But TCM has a lineup planned for Valentine's Day — some pretty good choices, too — and, the more I think about it, the more I realize that the relevance of showing "8½" on that day probably wouldn't be apparent to most viewers.

If you've seen Bob Fosse's "All That Jazz" or Woody Allen's "Stardust Memories," you've seen "8½"'s film legacy. And folks like Tim Burton, David Lynch, Martin Scorsese and others were strongly influenced by his work as well.

I guess, for lack of a better word, they were the imitators. Now see the original.

Tuesday, February 02, 2010

Fighting a War After the War Ends



Like most boys, when I was growing up, I played war games with the kids in my neighborhood.

The other kids all seemed to know more about war than I did. I guess they saw more war movies.

Actually, I've never been a fan of war movies although I do make some exceptions.

I make exceptions, for example, for some movies that are historical re–creations, like "Gettysburg" or "Tora! Tora! Tora!" I make exceptions for some movies that tell a real person's story with war as the backdrop, like "Sergeant York." And I make exceptions for some movies that tell stories about real events but the characters are fictional, like "Gone With the Wind" or "The Best Years of Our Lives."

In fact, I'd have to say that 1946's "The Best Years of Our Lives" is one of my favorite war movies — and it never shows a single battle scene in nearly three hours. It did explore the difficulties World War II veterans faced in readjusting to civilian life.

It was ahead of its time, really. Its language wasn't as salty as more modern films. When compared to films by modern filmmakers, director William Wyler could be said to have pulled some punches. But it addressed the issue of disabled veterans before "Coming Home" or "Born on the Fourth of July," and it dealt with war–inflicted psychological trauma before "The Deer Hunter."

It was truly a break from the norm.

There are moments in the movie that illustrate ugly truths about war that can't be portrayed on the battlefield and can't be glossed over by charismatic actors or patriotic music.

Like how war can interfere in personal lives.

"What do you think of the children?" the wife of the banker, Al, asks her husband upon his return.

"Children?" Al asks. "I don't recognize 'em. They've grown so old."

"I tried to stop them, to keep them just as they were when you left," she says, "but they got away from me."

Earlier, we get some insight into Al's anxiety about coming home when the cab that took him and two fellow veterans to their homes pulls up in front of his building.

"How long since you been home?" one of his companions asks.

"Oh, a couple–a centuries," he replies.

From time to time, the audience sees indications that Al has a problem with alcohol that may have developed while he was overseas. It is never really addressed in the movie, although one suspects it presents a problem that Al will have to deal with.

As difficult as things are for Al, the adjustment is tougher for Homer, the former high school football star who lost his hands in combat.

After an awkward evening with his family, he slips out to his Uncle Butch's saloon, where Butch advises him, while the two play piano together, "Give 'em time, kid; they'll catch on. You know your folks'll get used to you, and you'll get used to them. Then everything'll settle down nicely. Unless we have another war. Then none of us have to worry because we'll all be blown to bits the first day. So cheer up, huh?"

But Butch can't completely ease Homer's emotional conflict. It leads him to erroneously conclude that his girlfriend won't want to go through with the marriage they had planned before the war intruded.

Finally, he gives her an unflinching glimpse at the kind of life she faces if they get married. He goes through the process of removing his hooks in his preparation for bed.

"This is when I know I'm helpless," he says. "My hands are down there on the bed. I can't put them on again without calling to somebody for help. I can't smoke a cigarette or read a book. If that door should blow shut, I can't open it and get out of this room. I'm as dependent as a baby that doesn't know how to get anything except to cry for it. Well, now you know, Wilma. Now you have an idea of what it is. I guess you don't know what to say. It's all right. Go on home. Go away like your family said."

But Wilma surprises him. "I know what to say, Homer," she says, kneeling in front of him. "I love you and I'm never going to leave you ... never." She tucks him into bed and kisses him, then leaves the room.

The camera lingers on Homer's face, partially illuminated by the moonlight. And the audience sees a single tear roll down his face. No words are necessary to express the relief he is feeling.

The third veteran, Fred, faces many obstacles when he returns, not the least of which is his attempt to pick up the threads of his marriage. He continues to suffer from nightmares about battle and also finds it hard to find work when much of his experience was in the nose of combat aircraft.

But the marriage falls apart, and Fred decides to leave town. He has no destination in mind. When trying to get on a plane, he is told that there are two planes leaving town that day, "one eastbound, one westbound."

"Which way you going?" Fred is asked.

"Which one leaves first?" he responds.

Perhaps fittingly, the movie ends with Homer and Wilma's wedding. It is a new beginning for them — and, perhaps, for Al as well. We get the impression that Al and his wife have discussed his drinking, and Al has agreed to cut back.

It is also a new beginning for Fred and Al's daughter, Peggy, who appear to be headed for their own wedding as the movie ends.

It's a remarkable film.

And you can see it tonight on Turner Classic Movies at 9 p.m. (Central). It's part of TCM's "31 Days of Oscar."

The cast was first rate — Fredric March, Myrna Loy, Teresa Wright, Dana Andrews, Virginia Mayo, Hoagy Carmichael. And it had a very special young man, Harold Russell, who was cast in the role of Homer. He was not a professional actor, but he was perfect for the role.

In reality, Russell lost his hands in a grenade explosion. He won Best Supporting Actor — and he also received a special Oscar for being an inspiration to veterans.

It remains the only time anyone has received two Oscars for the same performance.

Other films glorified war. "The Best Years of Our Lives" told the gritty tale of adjusting to a postwar reality — and won seven Oscars in the process.

If you have never seen it, it is worth the investment of your time.

Monday, February 01, 2010

'Lawrence of Arabia' Is a Must-See Film



Today is the first day of Turner Classic Movies' traditional monthlong Oscar season salute, "31 Days of Oscar."

I don't know how long TCM has been doing this, but there are a few things I do know — and you can draw certain conclusions based on these facts, I guess.
  • TCM has been on the air since the mid–1990s.

  • When I first became aware of the "31 Days of Oscar," it was done exclusively in March because that was the month when the Oscars were given out. Since there are 31 days in March, that was how the name originated.

  • With the exception of 2006 (when the Oscars were given out in March to avoid a conflict with the Winter Olympics), the Oscars have been given out in February since 2004. Presumably (although I haven't heard or read anything to confirm this), the 2010 Winter Olympics, which will begin in less than two weeks, were behind the decision to move this year's Oscar ceremony to March 7.

  • Even though the "31 Days of Oscar" is now held mostly in February, which has 28 days except for Leap Years when it has 29, the name has been retained. But to be true to its name, it is not confined to a single month. The last three days of the salute have been held on the first three days of March.
Anyway, in the past, the "31 Days of Oscar" had different themes each year — sometimes it has had no apparent theme — but the main rule has been that every film shown was at least nominated for an Oscar. Typically, the prime time offerings are the movies that actually won an Oscar.

Well, February 1 is the day all this begins, and TCM could hardly have done much better for its opening day. As usual, there are some films that aren't especially well known by casual film watchers. Those tend to be films that were nominated for something but didn't win — like, for example, "Saratoga Trunk," a 1945 film co–starring Gary Cooper and Ingrid Bergman that was aired this afternoon.

"Saratoga Trunk" is an overlong tale of 1875 New Orleans that did quite well at the box office when it was released, largely because it reunited the stars of 1943's "For Whom the Bell Tolls." If you missed it, you missed a film that is amiable and entertaining enough but essentially vacuous. Flora Robson was nominated for Best Supporting Actress, but she lost to Anne Baxter.

I'm not going to quibble with TCM's choice to air 1962's "Lawrence of Arabia" on opening night, though. It was nominated for 10 Academy Awards (winning seven). It was the film that transformed Peter O'Toole into a genuine star. It boasts a great cast aside from O'Toole — Alec Guinness, Omar Sharif, Anthony Quinn, Claude Rains. Maurice Jarre, who died nearly a year ago, composed an Oscar–winning score that seems to capture the vast, sprawling nature of the desert.

The imagery, which was rewarded in the form of Oscars for cinematographer Freddie Young, editor Anne Coates and director David Lean, burns itself into the memory with the intensity of a desert sun.

It is an epic in just about every sense of the word, and the historical tale it tells is astonishingly accurate. Someone who believes himself or herself to be an admirer of movies must see "Lawrence of Arabia" at least once — if not more than once.

Certainly, the American Film Institute believes that. Twice it has released its "100 Years … 100 Movies" list — originally in 1998 and a revised list 10 years later — and "Lawrence of Arabia" was in the Top 10 both times.

And there is no better place to see it than Turner Classic Movies. TCM shows films uncut, uninterrupted and in the letterbox format so if you tune in, you'll be seeing precisely what the moviegoers in 1962 saw.

The problem is that, because the movie runs about 3½ hours, you may need to record it and watch it later. It starts at 10 p.m. (Central).

But that time slot is merely a nuisance. Don't let it keep you from seeing one of the great movies of all time.

Friday, January 23, 2009

The Oscar Nominees

There was a time in my life when I could watch the Academy Awards with the knowledge that I had seen every nominee for Best Picture, and I had very definite ideas about which one should win.

That was long ago, when I was a teenager. For a variety of reasons — I had more disposable income, I had more free time, the quality of the movies seemed better — I was able to do that.

Yesterday, the nominees for the 2008 Oscars were announced. Certainly, I've heard of the titles of films like "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button," "Doubt," "Frost/Nixon" and "Milk." And I remember seeing David Frost's interview with Richard Nixon when it was televised in the late 1970s.

But the only movie I've seen at the theater in recent months is "Gran Torino" — which I highly recommend to everyone, by the way.

So I don't really feel qualified to make any personal judgments about which film should win. This year, like most recent years, I probably won't watch the Oscars on TV — or much of it, anyway.

But it gives me the opportunity to remind my readers of an annual event that will be coming up on Turner Classic Movies in February and continuing through the first three days of March. It's called "31 Days of Oscar." During these 31 days, TCM shows only films that have been nominated for Oscars, usually subdividing them into appropriate groups, like "Best Actor" nominees or "Best Supporting Actress" nominees — or "Best Picture" nominees. Actual winners have been separated from the others and shown during prime time.

When TCM began this month-long filmfest, the Oscars were still being presented in March, so TCM held it exclusively in March. Then the Oscars moved to February, and TCM had to adapt. February usually only has 28 days (although it has 29 in Leap Years) so TCM couldn't use the same name unless it ran over into the next month.

By starting the festival in February, TCM finds itself competing with the Super Bowl, which has been held the first Sunday in February in recent years. As a result, the film festival this year will begin on Super Bowl Sunday.

But there are some excellent films scheduled for Super Bowl Sunday. One of my personal favorites, "The Sunshine Boys" starring Walter Matthau and George Burns, will be airing at 8 a.m. (Eastern) that day. And another personal favorite, "Network" — which is famous for Peter Finch's "I'm as mad as hell ..." rant — will be shown at 12:15 a.m. (Eastern) that evening.

TCM also seems to have changed the daily themes this year to ones that have a more scholastic sound to them.

For example, the theme on Super Bowl Sunday is "Contemporary Issues in Mass Media." The next day's theme is "Personal Financial Management." The next day, it will be "Urban Housing." The day after that, the theme will be "Early 20th Century American Songwriters," which, naturally, focuses on biographies of songwriters like Cole Porter and George Gershwin.

The day after that, the theme is "Reproductive Biology," and it features some films that were considered a bit risqué at the time they were released — like "Carnal Knowledge" and "Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice."

Other themes during the festival will be "Nuclear Physics," "Reach and Influence of Nazi Germany" (which, in my opinion, ought to include "Judgment at Nuremberg"), "Urban Ethnic Cultures," "Principles of Animal Behavior," "Fashion Photography," and "Intro to Choreography."

I think some of the more intriguing themes are "Race, Gender and Ethnicity," which is the theme for Valentine's Day, "The Pacific Campaign in WW2" (which, inexplicably, includes the showing of "Gone With the Wind") and "Neuro Disorders & Diseases of the Brain," which will include the airings of "Awakenings" and "My Left Foot."

But, really, if you enjoy good movies, you'll find something good to watch every day during the "31 Days of Oscar." I recommend it to family and friends every year.